To Be Chosen By A God

                The mourning bells rang out signaling that the god Micah’s mortal wife had died.  His people mourned with him.  No one remembered when he had taken Dianna as his wife, but they knew she had made him happy for many years.  His pain was all of their pain, so it came as no surprise when the skies darkened and rain fell on the people of his lands.                 His priests and priestesses expected him to mourn.  The scrolls of those who had served him before stated as much.  After ten years they expected that he would begin looking for his new bride and were surprised when even after 20 years he had not called for the new search.                 It was over fifty years since that day and no one knew what changed his mind to begin the search anew for a mortal companion.  Mothers told daughters that it boded well for the next woman he loves that he had loved so deeply.  The bells of the temples of Micah rang out again for the first time in fifty seven years.  These bells only rang for two things.  The first was that the mortal wife of Micah had died and the second was when their god Micah began the search for his new wife.                 Grandmothers told granddaughters of the last time the bells rang and what it meant now that they rang again.  Micah was not the kind of god who demanded worship or gifts or subjugation, but he often received it anyway due to his people’s love for him.  He kept them protected and was easy to call on in need.  Because of this, every household had at least one altar in honor of him.  Some had one inside the home and one outside the home so that he could, in a way, partake of any outdoor festivities a household had.                 The scrolls stated that when Micah called for the beginning of the hunt for a new bride, every unmarried girl of either 17 or 18 was to visit the local temple to be marked on the hand by a priest or priestess.  It was an ink made of specific herbs and dyes that could only be removed by Micah himself so there was no fear that it would wash off accidently.                 Chelsea went with her mother to the temple to be marked by their local priest.  It was late in the day as Chelsea had been nervous about getting the mark.  She had only turned 17 a month earlier and was worried about the whole process.                  “I was wondering when I would see you, Chelsea.  Had you not come to me, I would be required to come to your home.  Why have you waited so long in the day?  I’ve had excited girls in here since dawn being marked, and here it is nearly dusk.”  Darius, the local priest of Micah asked as he took Chelsea’s hand and led her to where he had the ink and brush to mark her.                 “I’m just nervous about everything.  No one alive knows what it was like the last time he chose a wife, and I have a bad feeling about it.”  She confessed.  She liked Darius.  He was a good priest with kind words for anyone who entered the temple.  She often came to leave a flower or two at the feet of the large statue of Micah at the center of the room.  It was here that Darius led her as he sat her down at one of the set of chairs he had set up for the day’s work of marking girls for his god.                 “That is both true and untrue, Chelsea.  While no one has first-hand knowledge, the priests and priestesses who have served here before me have left journals of their time here.  The rules are strict on the age requirements.  I had a girl in tears because she would turn 17 tomorrow.  I could not mark her no matter how much she begged me.  All of the marks must be in place by midnight, the girl must be a virgin, and she must have at least turned 17 on the day of the marking.  The ink wouldn’t even take to the poor girl’s skin.  Now, any girl who has lied and said they were a virgin and weren’t, the scrolls say that at midnight, the ink will disappear from their hands and they will have a rash there instead.”  He explained as he wrote their god’s name on her right hand.                 “Wait… she has to be a virgin?  But Darius, I’m technically not a virgin anymore.”  She pulled her hand away from him, but it was too late, he had already written Micah’s name on her hand in the elder runes.                 “Is this true? When did this happen?”  He was now concerned and was thinking of the various ointments he could make for her when her hand became infected with the rash that was sure to come by morning now.                 “Do you remember when I broke my arm about two years ago?”  He nodded slowly wondering if she had been r***d.  He didn’t know if a girl would be ineligible due to r**e.  “My older sister Abigale wanted to go see Mr. Ferriday’s horses.  We were both done with our chores so we went to go look at them.  No one was around and Abigale dared me to climb up on one of them and ride it around the yard saying that she could do it for longer and would be better at it because she had ridden a horse with father before and I hadn’t.  It was silly, I know, but I took her up on the challenge and chose a horse.  He was tall, black, and in a fenced in yard by himself.  He let me get on top of him easily enough, but as soon as I did, he started bucking.  I held on as much as I could, but he eventually threw me and I landed hard on my arm, breaking it.  I had cuts to my face and arms from the fall, and a spot of blood on my dress.  I don’t know if my maidenhead broke while the horse was bucking or when he threw me, but because of it, I’m not considered a virgin anymore.”  She crossed her arms in front of herself, hugging herself.                 “I think Micah is only concerned if you had lain with another man.”  He sighed in relief.  “I trust that he’ll see the truth of the situation and not judge you harshly because of it.”  Chelsea nodded slowly, hoping that Darius was right about this.  “If you wake up with a rash, come see me and I’ll make an ointment for you.  Ok?”  She nodded again but he could see she was still worried about something.  “Did you have other questions?”                 “What of the choosing?  How long does it last?”  She asked.                 “It seems to vary so I don’t think it has a set timeframe.  As he decides who will not be his wife, the mark disappears from their skin.  What exactly are you nervous about?  Maybe I can help alleviate your worry.”                 “I guess I’m worried about how some girls will react when they aren’t chosen.  Some of the girls in town can be really mean-spirited.  Or on the other side of the coin, what if that’s the kind of girl he takes for his wife?  What if they hide their natures and he only finds out after he’s chosen her?  I know.  That last one is a silly fear, but I still wonder.  I wouldn’t want Micah to marry someone like that.”                 Darius chuckled.  “I think Micah will see through any such acts, don’t you worry.”  He closed the lid to the pot holding the special ink and cleaned the brush he had used on so many young girls that day.  “It’s getting late and you were the last girl I needed to mark today.  I think I’m going to retire for the night, but feel free to stay as long as you like.”                 As Darius began to clean up the area in front of the statue, Chelsea turned and walked back to her mother and they walked back to their home in silence; each lost in their own thoughts.  When they got home, they bid each other a good night and retreated to their bedrooms.  Chelsea shared hers with her younger sister Sophia.  Abigale had gotten married earlier that year and had moved out so there was a little more space now that there wasn’t three beds in the room.  Sophia was a year younger than Chelsea and while she was disappointed that she couldn’t be in the choosing, wanted to see the mark and touch it all the while asking questions that Chelsea had no answer for.                 That night, Chelsea dreamed.  It was that day two years ago with Abigail and the horse.  She again bet her sister that she could last just as long at riding a horse and that Abigail hadn’t done anything as she had just rode behind father on the horse and it could barely be called riding a horse anyway.  She again climbed atop the black stallion that was later named Nightshade.  And again he let her on as calm as can be.  She braced herself for the wild bucking that would follow, but the scene played out as it had before.  The girls had no way of knowing that Nightshade had yet to be broken.  She landed with a thump and again the pain in her arm forced her to cry out in the dream as she had in life when it happened.  Abigail came rushing over and helped pull her to the other side of the fence so that the still wild horse wouldn’t trample her sister.                 “Are you ok, Chelsea?”                 “My arm hurts so much.”  She was holding it to her chest and when her sister moved it, she cried out in pain.                 Abigail looked Chelsea over to make sure there was nothing else wrong other than the scrapes from the fall and the red marks that would later become bruises, and spotted the blood.  “What happened?”  She pointed to the splotch of blood at Chelsea’s crotch area.                 “I don’t know but I’m sore there too.”  Chelsea looked up in her dream and standing in the pen was a gorgeous man standing watching them with his arms crossed.  His hair was nearly shoulder length and was black with the hair at his temples and brow was pulled back into a tail tied with leather cord.  He was powerfully built with muscles cording his arms.  His nose was aquiline and his eyebrows were thick over grey eyes with eyelashes that were so dark and thick that they made him look like he had used a charcoal pencil to accent his eyes.  His lips were thin and his cheekbones were high.  As she noticed him watching her, he disappeared in the manner of dreams.  He looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place him.                 All across the lands belonging to Micah, girls who were marked for him but no longer had their maidenheads dreamt of the day they lost it.  The girls who had lied and said they were virgins or had lied about being r***d, woke up with the itchy rash, but girls who had been r***d, woke up to find they still had their marks.                 Chelsea woke up with a gasp.  She clutched her right arm to her chest, feeling the memory of the pain of when it had broken.  It hadn’t hurt like this for over a year.  She ached lower too.  She pulled back her blankets and was horrified to see that she had bled in her sleep because she wasn’t due for that for another few weeks.  She quickly got out of bed and discovered that the spot of blood was small and only on her nightgown.                 Sophia was still asleep, so Chelsea was quite as she got ready for the day.  When she was dressed, she walked out into the kitchen and began her chores.  She swept the hearth free of ashes, laid a new fire and lit it from an oil lamp that kept a flame ready for use, removed the ash from the incense that had burned the previous day at the family’s altar and swept the pewter statue of Micah free of ash.  She dumped the ash outside and grabbed the water bucket.  She walked to the well at the center of town and filled her bucket.  It was early so she didn’t encounter many people.  She liked it that way, especially now that people would be looking at her to see if she had been rejected yet.  Once home, she poured the water into the cauldron hanging over the fire.  It took a few more trips to fill it, but the water, once hot, would be used for several things throughout the day.  It was several more trips to the well that allowed her to also fill a stone basin in the house full of cool water that would also be used throughout the day.                 When the basin was full, Sophia was just waking up.  After setting the bucket back in it’s place, Chelsea went over to the family’s altar and pulled out one of the sticks of incense from the shelf beneath the statue of Micah.  She lit it from the oil lamp, waited a few moments and then blew out the flame.  She watched the smoke for a little bit to ensure that the stick was lit and would not go out.  She set it in the holder and knelt before the statue as she had every morning for as long as she could remember.  Her prayer was also the same as it was every morning.  It was a simple request to keep her family safe.                 Sophia finally exited their bedroom to begin her own chores.  She gathered all of the clothing that needed to be cleaned and walked outside where the wash tub was.  Before she left the room, Chelsea stopped her.                 “I’m going to help you with the laundry today, Sophia.”                 “Trying to suck up to Micah?” She grinned.                 “No.  I bled on my nightdress last night and I don’t expect you to have to clean that for me.”                 “Isn’t it a little early for you?”                 “Yes, but it was just the small amount last night.  I’m not still bleeding.”                 “Ok.  Do you mind if we do the sheets too?  They need it anyway and it’s always a pain to do them all by myself.”                 “No, I don’t mind, Sophia.  I got up a little early this morning, so the water will be ready sooner than normal.” Sophia nodded and started her other chores after stripping all the beds of their sheets.  She refilled the oil lamp and swept their bedroom, while Chelsea swept the kitchen, her brother’s room, and their parents’ room.  Their father and brother worked as loggers while their mother would be in the marketplace at this time buying food or other necessities for the day.                 When the water was hot, Chelsea helped Sophia transfer some of the water to the laundry tub.  They began chatting as they scrubbed.  They spoke of the future, possibilities, as well as their hopes and dreams.  They weren’t just sisters, in many ways, they were best friends.  When the laundry was done, they emptied the tub.  By then, their mother was home and Chelsea helped with preparing the food, while Sophia tended to the small garden they had.  When the food was prepped, the only thing left for Chelsea to do was spin yarn for her sister to weave into cloth eventually.  She took her spindle and a basket of wool and sat outside, enjoying the light breeze on her face and the feel of the warm sun overhead as she got lost in spinning.                 This was the one chore she truly enjoyed doing.  Sometimes, when they had a little extra money, her mother would buy a dye other than brown.  Brown was very cheap and made it so you didn’t have to just use the undyed wool.  They all certainly had plenty of clothing that was undyed and all of their socks were undyed as well.  But it was nice to spin a nice yarn of sky blue or even a pale yellow.  To make the dye last longer, they always diluted it.  She had a feast day dress in the pale yellow and her brother had a feast day shirt in the sky blue.  Green was another color that was fairly cheap, though more expensive than the brown and they all had a few pieces in green.                 Just as she enjoyed spinning the yarn, her sister Sophia loved to weave.  Chelsea had been knitting socks for the last couple years and with Abigail moved out, Sophia was going to learn how to knit as well.  It was dinner time by the time she ran out of wool in her basket and her spindle was heavy with newly made yarn.  She would have to steam and set it tomorrow, but for now she felt accomplished.                 The boys came home, each with a full load of wood on their backs.  This was wood that had already been cured.  Chelsea and Sophia quickly helped them to unload the wood and each took a small pile into the house to load the tray for it next to the hearth.  After a nice family meal, the girls went out and brought in the laundry, made the beds and put away the clothing that had been washed.  All in all, while it was a busy day, it was a rather typical day for Chelsea.                 The days flowed together, and though she hadn’t been to the temple the day before due to helping with the laundry, she went there every day after, always leaving a flower or two at Micah’s feet.  She noticed that the temple was a little more active than usual with girls her age leaving the god various tokens though Chelsea knew these girls never did this kind of thing before.                 “I missed seeing you yesterday, Chelsea.  I see that everything turned out ok.”  He gestured to her hand still bearing Micah’s name.                 “I needed to help Sophia with the laundry, so I didn’t have the free time I usually do.”  She gestured to the sudden explosion of items scattered about the statue’s feet.  “What happened here?”                 “Just some of your peers trying to curry favor, I’m sure.”                 “Do you think he would be offended if I covered the mark?”                 “Why would you do that?  And I suppose it would have to do with the reasoning behind it.”  Darius replied.                 “I just feel like being chosen or not chosen should be between me, my family, and Micah instead of being on display for everyone to see and speculate.”                 “Well, you can try it, but I genuinely don’t know how he might react to it.”                 Chelsea nodded in thought as she went up to the statue and laid her flower at his feet amongst all the other flowers and baubles.  Darius had gone to speak with someone else, so she was a little surprised when she turned around and saw Rebecca who was sneering at her as she watched her.                 Rebecca was a year older than her and looked much Chelsea’s opposite.  Where Chelsea was blonde and rather petite of frame with her blue eyes and 5’4” height, Rebecca had dark brown hair, was a little chubby with her brown eyes and 5’9” height.  Rebecca was considered “tall” and seemed to think that because she was taller than most girls, it gave her some right to feel superior to other girls.  Rebecca was the youngest child of two and was spoiled rotten by her parents.  She had few chores due to her parents being wealthy and could afford to pay others to do the house work.  It was another reason for her to sneer at people like Chelsea who had to help out around the house as much as she did.                 “You honestly think Micah is going to be interested in someone like you?” She spat at Chelsea                 “I sincerely hope he has no interest in someone as stuck up and self-centered as you, Rebecca.  But that’s why he’s a god.  His choices are his and we don’t get to judge them.”  She walked past the taller girl, praying to Micah that she would just leave her alone.                 “You b***h!” She screeched as she snatched at Chelsea’s long hair, pulling it back painfully.  She used her other hand to slap Chelsea across the face.  The force sent her flying as she felt some of her hair pull away from her scalp.  The blonde girl was far from a fighter so as soon as she could gain her bearings, she scurried away.  While she lost some of her dignity, she knew that if she tried to physically fight back the larger girl, even if she won, she would pay for it for the rest of her life.                 As Chelsea hurried away from the temple, she heard a scream of rage that she would later find out was when Rebecca had discovered that her mark had disappeared and she now blamed Chelsea for it.  In a way, one of her worries had been alieved.  She didn’t have to worry that Micah wanted a wife who was mean-spirited like Rebecca.  That or he simply didn’t like someone who would cause trouble in his own temple.  For Chelsea, it was a relief any way you cut it.                 The next morning, Chelsea wrapped a band of cloth around her right hand in an attempt to hide the mark.  As she lit the incense and placed it in the holder at Micah’s altar in their home, she spoke to him, hoping he would hear her.  For the first time, her morning prayer was different.  “Micah, I just want you to know that I’m not hiding your mark because I’m ashamed of it.  I’m just trying to not be picked on by people like Rebecca.  I’ll keep it covered until you make your decision and whether it’s there or not can just be between you, me, and my family.  Please?”  Wrapping her hand like this made some things awkward to do, but by the time she had filled the cauldron and stone basin with water, she had noticed a change to the cloth wrapping.  It now had Micah’s name plain as day on it over where it had been painted on her hand.                 She unwrapped her hand and as the cloth pulled away from her hand, the marking disappeared on the cloth, but was still there on her hand.  “I guess you don’t want it covered up.  Ok.  You win.”  She tossed the cloth back onto her bed to be put away later and finished up her chores.                 Over the next few weeks, Rebecca and her friends who had also had their marks removed by Micah started to tell rumors about the girls who still had their marks on them.  They would tell anyone who would listen that those girls only still had their marks because they had promised their god s****l favors or had been using his statue in inappropriate ways.  It was only because of these things that they were still being considered.  Some of the boys believed these tales and girls would get accosted if they walked alone in town.                  Chelsea was on her way to the temple to drop off her flower to the statue of Micah like always when a boy about her age stepped in front of her.                 “You know, you should try your tricks on a real man instead of on a statue.  I’m sure Micah would appreciate a woman who knows what she’s doing.  I’ll be happy to teach you.”  He had backed her up against a wall and now had an arm on each side of her, preventing her from scooting away from him.                 “Actually, considering that he only wanted to consider virgins, I think it would be quite the opposite.  Now, if you would please let me by, I have business elsewhere.”  She tried to move his hand but it only succeeded in him moving it to her breast.  He squeezed hard making her gasp in pain.                 “You think he wants that flower, you little slut?  I’ll take it from you though.”  His hot breath smelled horrible as he started to rub her crotch.  “Yeah, you like that?”  When she went to cry out, he grabbed her by the neck and squeezed.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, little slut.  You’re going to do to me everything you did to that statue.”                 Hot tears ran down her face as she realized what was going to happen to her.  She was in an alley and there was no one that would see what happened to her.  She panicked and mentally cried out to Micah.  In a flash of calm memory, she saw the time her brother had accidently hit himself in the crotch and how long it had hurt him.  She realized her legs were correctly positioned, so she quickly struck him in the crotch with her knee as hard as she could.  When he released her and bent over holding himself, it was like someone else took control of her arm as she punched him in the face.  She had never punched someone before and didn’t realize how much it would hurt.  She ran the rest of the way to the temple even through her flower had been dropped in the alley.                 Darius saw her as soon as she ran through the temple entrance.  “What’s happened, Chelsea?  You look frightened.”  He led her over to a bench and held her hands as she calmed down enough to speak.                 “Robert accosted me in the alley by the baker’s shop.  He said these horrible things about me promising s****l favors to Micah and that I was doing….things….to his statue at home and that I should try them with a real man first.  Darius, I think he was going to…..”  She couldn’t finish the sentence and began sobbing in full as what almost happened fully weighed on her.                 Darius pulled her in to an embrace and let her cry for a while as he rubbed her back.  “Did he….  Chelsea, did he r**e you?”  She shook her head.  “Can you tell me what he did?”                 She took a deep breath and told him.  “He grabbed my breast and squeezed and then started rubbing my crotch while he called me a slut.”                 He continued to hold her in a fatherly way, using shushing noises as one does an infant who won’t stop crying.  When she had settled a little he asked her, “How did you get away?  Did anyone come to help you, did you call out?”                 She shook her head.  “When I went to scream out, he grabbed me by the throat and squeezed.”  Darius pulled her back from himself and checked her neck, it was red and looked like it would bruise.  “I..I..I kneed him in the crotch as hard as I could and then punched him in the face as hard as I could, but my hand hurts so much now.  It was like it was someone else that was doing it.”  Tears still fell from her eyes.                 “You’re safe now.  I’m going to get something for your neck and your hand.  I’ll be right back.”  He left to one of the rooms off of the main chamber and came back shortly with an ointment that he rubbed on her neck.  “This should take care of any swelling or bruising.”  He left again and came back with ice tied up in a cloth.  Ice was very rare and very expensive.  When he set it on her hand she looked at him in wonder.                 “But Darius, ice is…”                 “Sometimes, Micah knows just what I need, when I need it.  I think he was watching you.”  Chelsea was one of the few girls in the village that were still marked.  The thought of her god watching her made her face flush with embarrassment.  Who was she to garner such attention?  Her family was considered poor, and she didn’t feel like she was very pretty, at least not like some of the other girls in the village.  “Why are you embarrassed?”                 “I’m just a no-body.  Why would he be interested enough to watch me when I must be so boring to someone like him.  I’m not pretty, and my hands are rough from hauling water every morning.”                 Darius chuckled, having read what his predecessors had written about the young women Micah had chosen for his wife over the many centuries.  Those journals were often the first that a new priest or priestess wanted to read and would often travel to the other cities where those women had been chosen from to get the first-hand account of the chosen brides.  He would never tell her, but she was exactly the kind of person Micah would be looking for and felt she stood a good chance of being chosen.                 “You’re wrong, Chelsea.  You are very pretty and any man would be proud to have you as a wife.”  He replied.  He knew she thought he was just being nice, but it was true.  He was not required to remain celibate as some gods sometimes required of their priests or priestesses.  He had a wife and a few adult children of his own.  Had she been his daughter, he would have been proud of her.  She was the kind of person that if she did not get chosen, would probably make a good priestess.                 When the ice melted, he dried her hand and applied an ointment against swelling as he wrapped it up.  As before, Micah’s mark seemed to bleed through the cloth, answering his unspoken question on if she had tried to cover it before when she did not seem surprised it had done so.                 “I’m going to walk you home, Chelsea.”  She nodded as they stood and he led her to the temple entrance.  They walked quietly back to her house and when she was in view of it, he waited a short ways away and watched as she opened the door to her house and entered.  After Chelsea was back home and safe, Darius turned on his heel and strode to the home of the magistrate.                 The next morning, when Chelsea went to fetch the water, she was met with a somewhat disturbing sight at the village center where the well was located.  The stocks which had stood empty for a long time had a new occupant.  Robert stood bent over half asleep.  His left cheek was heavily bruised and swollen and she was surprised at the amount of damage she had done to his face.  Her own hand was still sore, but had thankfully not swollen up or bruised thanks to Darius’ ministrations the night before.  Above Robert’s head was a sign that read “Attempted r**e of Micah’s Marked”.                 She tried to draw the water up silently, but the sounds of the bucket hitting the sides of the stone well and scraping eventually roused him.  “Come to laugh at me, slut?  I’m here because of you.  You just had to go running to the magistrate and tell him some sob story.”                 “You did this to yourself, Robert.  And it wasn’t me who told the magistrate.”  She turned away from him and ignored him after that.  Robert was held in the stocks for a full week with only his mother willing to feed him or give him water.  After that, though, girls who were marked could finally walk the village alone without being accosted.                  Two months went by making four total since the temple bell had been rung.  Chelsea was now the only girl in the village to still be marked and unknown to anyone but Micah, she was now the only one still marked.  He now watched her almost constantly and Chelsea was starting to feel the effects of his eyes on her.  She would often feel like she was being watched but look around and see no one.  She did note, that she never felt watched when she was undressing or using the necessary.                  It was now nearly five months since the temple bell had rang signaling the start of the search.  In the temple, Darius received the message from Micah that Chelsea was the woman he chose and she was to be brought to the temple by midday along with a few other commands.  Darius wasted no time and hurried to Chelsea’s home to tell her family the good news.                 Darius arrived at the home three hours to midday and found the girls outside working on their chores and Andrea, their mother, inside working on the midday and evening meals.  He had already called for Andrea’s husband and son to leave work and hurry home.  He had tried to time his arrival with their arrival but found he was a little early.  He called the girls inside and told the three of them that Chelsea had been chosen as Micah’s new wife and advised her to pack up anything she wanted to take with her.  When Jonathan, Chelsea’s father, and Davis, her brother arrived, he again explained that Chelsea had been chosen.  He also explained that he was to take her to the temple by midday and this would be the last time they saw her.  He explained that the god’s havens were jealously guarded secrets, so anyone who left to live there could never return.                 There were many tears and hugs and kisses as they helped her pack her things. Her mother insisted that she wear her feast day dress and fussed over the fact that she hadn’t had time to trim her hair recently.  The family followed Darius to the temple, but he had to stop them from continuing into a small sitting room explaining that this was where she would be taken to Micah’s Haven and that she could be the only one inside when it happened.  Her family, including Abigail and her husband Jeffrim, all hugged her and kissed her one last time before she stepped into the chamber, carrying a few baskets and a hand bag bulging with her belongings with her.                  She hugged herself, nervous about what would happen and found that she paced the length of the room while tears coursed down her cheeks until midday.  It was close to midday so she wiped the tears from her eyes and did her best to compose herself.  She took several deep breaths, steadying herself.  The sun was now directly overhead and she could hear some kind of celebration going on outside the temple.  She hugged herself again and suddenly found herself in a very different room with a heavily muscled man before her.  He was the same man that had been in that dream the first night of the choosing.                 She realized now that it had been Micah himself who had made her relive that day.  She was struck speechless and the power and awe that radiated from him caused her to blush as she quickly knelt before him and lowered her face to the floor in front of him.